Realization of an Objective Witness
by demon alice
Summary: Near has never considered tapping into human emotions, that being a weakness in the art of catching criminals. But what happens when he experiences traumatic visions of the one he loves? How will he respond to the new things he's suddenly feeling? NearxMello


***strolls in* Hi everyone! *waves* My name's Demon Alice, but I go by Demon, or Alice, or Kaori, and sometimes even-**

**Mello: Get to the point.**

**Me: T.T pesky. Are you PMSing? **

**Mello: *huffs***

**Me: *snickers* anyways, it's nice to meet everyone! This is my first 'fic for Death Note and I'm excited to write more, especially yaoi fluff! This 'fic is short, I'm kind of irritated I didn't make it longer. I promise my one-shots are usually 5,000+ words or more, so this seldom ever happens. I randomly came up with this idea while sitting staring at my journal for twenty minutes. It's kind of strange, but I think you'll get it in the end.**

**Near: If you have to make that note then no one's going to understand it.**

**Me: Shut up, Sheep! Anyways, it has some symbolism in it and kind of attacks Near's thought process and his progression through emotions- that are suddenly slapped in his face! Okay, that's all I'll say for now! Let the 'fic begin!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death and if I did, just like every fangirl, all the Wammy Boys plus Light would still be alive. **

**Warning: Yaoi, Sort of spoilers, angst, and slight OOC Near.**

* * *

**Musings of an Objective Witness**

The human body was built to survive the most dastardly of injuries and diseases, and yet how weak it seemed. All the muscles, bone, tissues, cells holding parts together with a team effort strength, but with a simple snap of one it could break this group apart. It was sort of disturbing, intimidating, and...intriguing.

At least to the albino, and his mind tended to wander farther than the average teenager's. He lay on his back in the darkness of his room, his blank eyes staring avidly at his pale finger tips stretched towards the ceiling. It was strange to see one's skin illuminated in the dark, almost inhuman, much like his constantly whirring brain that sought to solve every mystery, every quirk, every piece of the puzzle. Puzzle. His short fingers tingled, longing to fit together solid, slim puzzle pieces and discover the picture or message they read.

However much he wanted to grasp a toy of sort, Near's body refused to obey, preferring to tiredly stay sprawled in his awkward position with one arm curved above his snow white curls and his legs splayed at ninety degree angles. His socked toes were curling in and out like a sped up version of an absurd blooming flower that couldn't decide whether to stay open or closed. As he examined his feet, he realized that all the blood had rushed to his shoulder and he couldn't feel his left arm. He let it drop at his side, watching it in almost fascination and relishing in the feeling of his blood spreading back out. What a bizarre sensation...the rush of blood in one's system. Sort of...sort of…

Sort of how...he felt when he was in the presence of a certain blond; his blood not only sped throughout his body in rapid succession, but felt searing hot as if it had been boiled, and thus made his heart race at the rate of a marathon runner after a brisk jog. He had concluded that this shouldn't be possible, seeing as he wasn't the active type, and decided that perhaps his body was out of balance for some reason. Was it a hereditary disease? He didn't think so. He was sure if he had something wrong with his physique, Roger would have checked to find out before he set foot in Wammy's.

No, it wasn't something scientifically explainable, and it had frustrated him, because he had wanted to know why he'd only get this reaction when in the same vicinity of Mello. Mello pushed him, taunted him, wanted to defeat him, and yet….he didn't mind having Near close. Near, then beyond confused, even asked a member of SPK for advice, and the man, completely thrown at having his superior ask _him _for help, took a minute to answer, considering the young genius thoughtfully. Near remembered he had chuckled.

"_What is it?" Near had asked, lowering the puzzle piece in his hand to the floor so he could frown at Rester. Rester had an amused look on his face as he surveyed the white haired boy._

"_Can't a genius understand love?" He questioned, watching his superior's face switch from puzzlement to surprise, and then became sort of thoughtful as if he never considered the possibility._

"'_Love' has never been a strong suit for someone such as myself."_

"_Well then," Rester said, leaning back in his chair and fixing Near with a knowing look. "I suppose this is your body telling you that you feel something, or at least your emotions are trying to push their way to the surface."_

"_That is most discouraging."_

_The man laughed. "Not at all, it's just something new your mind has to wrap around. A new puzzle for you to solve."_

A new puzzle to solve. It certainly piqued his interest, but the thought of emotions coming to play in Near's head? No, out of the question. Objectiveness was his strength, and the lack of sympathy he had gave him his assertiveness to arrest even the most pitiful criminals. The thought of that being replaced by weak, pliable, _human _emotions made his stomach curdle uncomfortably.

'Wouldn't it be worth it?' He remembered someone asking him. Had he answered them? Probably not. Lying there in the blackness, he answered with a firm and sharp 'no'. Yet he felt a 'but' floating in the back of his mind, teasing the sensible part of his brain that occasionally it would be good, healthy even, to let go of his cold exterior and be human for once. He argued that dropping his guard would lead him down the path of his own destruction, in other words, right into Kira's trap. And it could even bring Mello with him…

Which lead him back to his earlier thinking of the fragile human anatomy. If he gave into the war between sense and love, could his love bring Mello to his destruction? Say Mello dragging him away from the danger and perhaps using himself as a shield, as the idiot only would, and having something wickedly sharp plunged into the flesh of his stomach in order to protect Near? Near's heart ached a little, and the feeling alone set a shiver up his spine. That is what one would call a heartbreak, yes?

'_I'm being ridiculous,' _The albino decided, rolling over onto his side and letting his heavy eyelids fall shut, obscuring his bottomless eyes from the darkness of his room and giving him only more blackness to stare at. _'If I start over thinking this I'll work myself in an endless circle.'_

His body decided to fulfill its needs rather than let him contemplate and soon his conscious fell away into the dregs of his mind, where a scene was slowly being pieced together, pulling thoughts he'd been thinking prior to falling asleep into shape before his eyes. He found himself standing on a sidewalk in what looked like part of Shibuya, a small breeze tugging at his hair and pajamas, cars going by too quickly to keep up with.

Vaguely wondering what he was doing here, the pale genius scanned the area, a frown etched deep into his simple features. Then, he heard it before he saw it. The first sign of abnormality was the sound of screeching tires, skirting the road with a ferocious pitch that drove his hands to his ears and made him turn around. The busy road was suddenly cleared and in its center was the source of the noise- a shabby looking car that spun itself to a stop, surrounded by black sedans blocking its progression. Men with suits, tinted glasses, and firearms leaped from the sedans, raising their weapons to point at the car, their jaws locked in anger. Orders were barked between them, but Near's focus was on the man getting out of the car.

Lean and muscular, he had the grace of a panther and an ego the size of Japan itself, even with his arms raised in surrender. He had his usual smirk plastered across his face, not even bothering to mask it, not even ashamed at being caught, not fazed at the many guns pointed at his chest.

"Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry such big guns?" He was saying, sweeping his locks out of his face with an arrogant sort of air, as though he was amused by his own question. "Alright, I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me-"

Near wanted to yell out, wanted to tell the boy he was foolish, an idiot, a lunatic leading himself to his own death, but his voice didn't seem to work, and he couldn't stop the next events from unfolding. The air was suddenly full of the sound of gunfire and bullets rained from every angle, shooting for one target, the target whose smug expression wavered at the last moment to something like shock before the deadly weapons ripped themselves through him. Near screamed, he was unable to help it as he watched the bullets tearing through hair, skin, muscle, tissue, bone marrow, too many places to count. The breeze laughed it's way past the pale boy, a horrible metallic scent drifting into his nostrils and filling his body, resting on his tongue and lingering there, silently gagging him.

For a moment, the boy was frozen in place, his emotions frozen on his bloody face and his dripping eyes turned to fix on Near, locking gazes with him. He seemed to smile a little before his body crumpled like a rag doll's and the halo of hair surrounding his head smacked the car door.

Near's breath came out ragged and shaky, his heart and soul feeling as if they had received treatment from a monstrous beast, its sharp teeth and talons tearing into them roughly and then depositing them on the ground not too gently to be swiftly run over with a truck. He unconsciously felt his feet carrying him toward the fallen body, his throat constricted with a pain that couldn't be inflicted from an outside source, the taste of metal still clinging to his taste buds. He knelt beside the boy and choked at the sight.

He had received a new wound from the impact of the car door on his head, and blood was pooling from the broken skin, staining his hair a sickening color. Near felt the urge to discharge the contents of his stomach right there and then, but didn't, instead swallowing it down and caressing the cheek of the dead teenager before him.

The white hand moved to stroke the golden crown, ignoring the fluids clinging to his skin. "Why did you do that? Why are you such an idiot?" Near felt his eyes prickling uncomfortably and something foreign and wet made its way down his cheek. He touched it tentatively and found it to be clear and reflecting back one of his dark eyes. Hesitantly, he brought it to his lips and tasted a slightly salty flavor. What was it?

The substance continued to leak from his eyes and pooled in his eyelashes, making his vision blurry. He used his long sleeve to wipe it away, irritated that it wouldn't stop and suddenly found himself to be elsewhere. The street, the cars, the men, the body...gone. He turned around, this way and that, and found he was kneeling on something leathery and firm. Glancing down, he realized it was a car seat and that he was pretty high off the ground, meaning he must be in some sort of truck parked somewhere dark. He couldn't see much except broken glass littering the dashboard and a dark shape looming over the wheel of the truck.

Wait...broken glass? When he moved his hand, Near felt something prick it and he let out a cry of surprise. More...glass? The little window behind him was busted and more glass littered the seat beside him. Had they…?

It hit him; they weren't parked- they must have crashed. But why? Had they been hit by another vehicle or else veered off the road in panic? But he didn't understand how they ended up in this horribly dark place, the only sound of which came from somewhere to his right was something dripping. He dared to look closer.

A horrible sort of shriek emanated from his throat.

'_No! NONONONONO, NOT AGAIN!' _

The dark shape was the boy laying over the wheel, his head cocked to the side so Near could see his wild eyes and the life gone from them. The dripping was coming from the side of his head pressed against the wheel, which probably busted his lip on impact and was now sliding down his chin and onto the floor, leaving a puddle that drifted close to Near's feet. He bashed his small fists against his door, trying in vain to push it open, but apparently he was too close to something heavy on the other side because his door would not budge.

He was trapped. Heart hammering against his adam's apple, the albino dared a glance toward the dead boy and felt a whimper escape his lips. Was this how a normal human felt? Were these emotions triggering new reactions from him and making him feel so hopeless and crushed? His will power seemed at a loss and his head was full of a thick fog that blocked his channel of logical thinking and instead left him stumbling blindly.

Though terrified to do so, he decided to try the door on the other side. His breath coming out in quick puffs, he slowly leaned over the body and his hand scrambled for the lever to open the door, hoping against hope his hand would find it. He tried to control his imagination from showing him images of the dead boy's hands grabbing him instead, or springing to life and throttling him in a rage.

Ah? Yes! His hand fastened on it. He gave it an experimental push and he felt it swing open. He was about to cry in relief when he barely moved it four centimeters outward and felt it hit something solid and unyielding. He felt as if the rug was yanked from underneath him again and he wanted to scream in frustration and fear. He almost, almost got away….but then…

Something orange danced in his peripheral vision. And then heat crept its way up his small form. He jerked and flung back against the seat, trying to escape the suffocating heat that was creeping toward him, its flames getting brighter and taller and stronger. Near tried to shout but the intense smoke silenced his cries and left him spluttering and gasping. He tried getting as low to the ground as he could, biting his sleeve to prevent smoke from filling mouth. Through the blaze, he could see the boy's face illuminated in sharp detail, the shadows playing along his face giving him a life-like look, and once more Near felt vomit bubbling in the apex of his throat.

Turning away abruptly, Near threw his shoulder into the door, but it remained stuck. '_Nngh, I can't die like this!'_ He tried again, but it was no more successful than the last time. He felt his skin searing from the hot fire beginning to lick up his legs, and he fought back a scream as he made one last desperate attempt to open the door and…

The pale boy tumbled out the door and plunged into further darkness. He waited for the impact of the hard floor to hit him, to bruise his left side while his other side erupted into flames and to go down in agony, ripping his soul painfully through his broken body.

It didn't come, however. He kept falling, and he soon realized the searing heat had vanished. He blinked and found himself sitting in a chair in front of brightly lit, blinking screens that were flashing red and with 'All data deleted' scrolled across them.

'_Where am I now?'_

Near heard voices around him, voices in fact that he recognized, but his gaze found the teen beside him. _Him _again. He looked stern and authoritative, and he appeared to be shouting an order when suddenly a sort of jolt went through the air, startling everyone in the room. Every eye, like Near's, found the crouched boy in the chair. He had a blank look on his face, confusion slowly etching itself into his handsome features.

It took him an age to fall, impossibly slow. He toppled sideways off of his chair and just before he hit the ground Near dived forward wildly and caught the boy in his arms, even though the boy was a lot taller and heavier than himself.

Cerulean eyes found Near's face and stared into his eyes, the life slowly leaving them right before his eyes again.

"NO!" Near cried, his voice ringing throughout the small room, his breath coming out in painful gasps. "YOU CAN'T DIE AGAIN!" The boy's eyes fluttered close and his weight dropped back into the albino's arms, unmoving, unseeing, unfeeling…

'_No…'_

He heard voices erupt around him again, but he hardly paid attention.

'_No...no...please…'_

He dropped his head into the boy's leather clad chest.

'_You can't….'_

"What're you doing?"

'_I need to wake up….'_

"Are you okay?"

'_Why am I still hearing your voice?'_

"Near!"

With a great effort, the boy managed to open his heavy eyelids, afraid of what he might see. Another death? A weapon pointed into his face? Flames? Those dead eyes...eyes that should be alive…

Instead, he was met by a dark room and bedsheets tangled around his legs, preventing him from sitting up. He had rolled over in his sleep, perhaps many times, and was now facing the inside of the bed rather than away from it. He didn't notice anything different besides his uncomfortable position and the slight perspiration beading on his cheeks.

Wait. Near didn't sweat. The albino apprehensively touched his cheeks and found the same salty substance he had in the dreams on his face. Were these…tears? Near didn't cry either. He did not possess a human quality that could be considered average, and he certainly wouldn't stoop to such a level of humility such as this. He rubbed his face violently with his sleeves, hoping in vain he could build a dam in his eyes to stop these irritating drops on his face.

Through the cloth, he spotted a sight that calmed him, relieved him, and caused him to drop his pride for a moment. He flung his skinny arms around the middle of the shape beside him, finding comfort in feeling body heat underneath his cheek and a chest heaving with the effort of breathing, very much alive. Near felt the emotional turmoil and weight lift off of him, making him feel lighter and more at ease, especially when he felt a familiar hand brush through his white locks.

"Near, you're acting strange, are you okay?"

Near raised his eyes to examine his lover's quizzical and yet concerned look that he was giving him. Admittedly, Near wasn't the most affectionate type, but after seeing him die three times, he felt the need to hold him.

"I mean, I've never seen you cry like that nor show this much emotion when hugging me. Are you sick?" He felt Near's forehead. "No, you're not running a fever, maybe you're stressed? Yeah, working the Kira case takes a toll on everyone-"

"Mello, I love you," Near interrupted, his body quaking with the effort he was going through. He never told the blond that, never let his emotions show even when they finally confessed to each other and started living together. He felt good in Mello's arms, felt safe and secure, but he never let Mello see him in pain like this. Near finally had the courage to spill out his emotions to the teenager before him, to release even more weight off of him he didn't know he carried.

"Don't die on me, okay? Promise you'll survive this case with me."

Near felt his chin lifted by a strong finger and was forced to look into the eyes of the man before him. He felt him narrow his eyes.

"You're...serious? You mean that?" Mello asked the questions with a slight defensive air as though not sure whether or not to believe the smaller boy.

"Yes, I truly do Mello, please believe me."

Mello felt his mouth twitch and a grin split his face open. "You actually said it before me, you're not a robot after all." He laughed slightly, and the mischievous look in his eye became more pronounced. "Alright, I believe you."

"Thank you." And he meant it.

"Hey Near?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

Near smiled a little, winding a piece of his own hair around his finger. He didn't realize the strong feelings of love could feel so...warm, so satisfying. "You wanted me to say it first." He didn't need to ask; he knew him.

Mello smirked. "Naturally." He leaned in and planted a kiss on his lover's mouth. "You know, if you're lying to me I'll make you pay."

Near managed an amused look before kissing Mello again, enjoying the sweet, lingering chocolate taste still faint on his lips. "I wouldn't expect any less of you."

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**And that's it! I hope you all understood what those deaths meant...and where they were in the show. If you were confused, it was suppose to show all the deaths of the only people Near really cared about but instead of L and Matt being dead all three times were Mello since he loves him the most. Just clarifying that! Whew, that was angsty, but I do like the ending *fangirling***

**Light: You're conceited.**

**Me: *scoffs* Talk about calling the kettle black! And what're you doing here by the way? This isn't your story!**

**Light: I came for your real name. *smirks and whips out a death note***

**Me: 0.0 NUUUU! *takes off running with Light chasing me***

**Near: *sighs* Review for Alice, please, it'll keep her happy...and quiet.**

**Sayooonaarraaa!**

**~ demon alice. x3**


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